The Harrowing Tale of Blackjack and the Tornado

The phone call came in at 8:35 p.m. last night. “Tornado, heading towards sister town may hit us”.

It had started raining over an hour ago but we thought nothing of it, kept playing cards, trying to grasp the bevy of rules being shared on how to play smart Blackjack. Going through my mind over and over again:

• 2’s & 3’s to 3: If the dealer is showing a 2 or 3, hit until you have at least 13, then stay.
• Double Down’s: If the dealer is showing 4, 5, or 6 double down 7, 8, 9 or 10. Always double down on 11.
• Splits: Never split an “F”; four, five or face. Always split 8’s, as long as the dealer isn’t showing a 9 or 10.
• 16: Sixteen never wins. Unless the dealer is showing a 4, 5 or 6 ALWAYS hit.
• Insurance: NEVER buy insurance unless you just bet every dime in your arsenal and don’t have a way home if you lose. Side Note: if you ever find yourself in this situation, here is the link to GA.

I'm sure there are more, but this is all I can recall this morning. Mr. Bombadee was winning, his betting strategy increasing his stack by leaps and bounds. After two winning hands in a row, increase your bet by half, continue with each subsequent win. After a loss, go back to your original bet and work you way back up. Lose three in a row, move to a new table. I quickly came to the conclusion that when we arrive in Vegas, my best gambling approach may be to just hand him all of my money and wait for my payout. To his credit, he was very patient as I kept calling to hit my 13 when the dealer was showing a 6. That was my typical hand all evening; 13. We started considering side bets on whether or not TaterTot would be dealt ANOTHER 13. I also believe I was the only player to not be blessed with a Blackjack all evening. My girls joined the fun and it was apparent to all that my nine-year-old daughter Mimi is a natural (good news?). Bombadee’s dream to be a casino dealer was obvious when she would say things like “Good luck with your Ace sir” and “Player showing a soft 17”.

Hard, soft, splits, double downs, insurance, comps, strategy, push, my head is spinning and knowledge is overflowing my brain, but I love it. I get more excited with each passing moment. Maybe this time, I won’t get so anxious and intimidated – I may actually sit down at a table and not feel like an arse the entire time.

We begin to wrap up our evening of good food and great friends. Mrs. BlahZeeBlah and Judo Boy left over an hour ago, hoping to get some precious time with Mr. BlahZeeBlah who had to miss the festivities due to work. Doody and Mimi have school tomorrow, LaLa and SugarLips are still going full force. The Bombadee’s are down in the driveway, about to head out when the phone rings. Mr. Tot hollers down, “Tornado, come back in”. Bombadee wonders why he is yelling at her about tomatoes. After a quick clarification, they come back in and we turn on the news. Tornado Warning, our area until 9:15 p.m. It’s still raining hard and Bombadee notes how it would stop if a tornado was close. My girls are nervous and keep asking if we should head to the basement. No, not yet (besides, my basement is a horrible, embarrassing mess and the thought of my friends going down there gives me more anxiety than an impending tornado). About 15 minutes later, we notice it stops raining, but the big red and fuscia spot on the weather channel is right on top of us. That’s odd. Then we hear it. THE TORNADO SIREN. Eyes widen, my girls begin crying looking for the cats. Mr. Bombadee swoops up SugarLips and heads to the basement with my dog to join the Mrs. and LaLa. Mr. Tot and I are closing blinds, looking for the damn cats. When he finally finds Bella Jane, she scratches the hell out of his arm on the way downstairs. Doesn’t she know he may be saving her life? I can tell Bombadee is nervous, her eyes indicate worry, her hands are kept in pockets to conceal their shaking, she keeps LaLa close and puts anything with glass aside, out of harms way. I can’t stop apologizing for my messy basement, even though I know my friends could care less.

After about 20 minutes or so, we get the all clear to head back up to continue watching the colors move across the counties on my TV screen. Since the storm is heading towards my friends small town, they decide to wait it out for awhile. I put my kids to bed, LaLa finally succumbs to overwhelming exhaust cuddled up in the booger sweater. We chat about looming events, discuss impending decisions, Mr. Bombadee dozes off and on. By 11:30, we all decide it is safe for our friends to head home.

No tornados, but we did discover that if we were ever to be in a natural disaster we would want the Bombadee's with us.